


Forbidden Emotions

by samstjames



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: F/F, dark!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-08
Updated: 2012-01-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 10:51:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/430245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samstjames/pseuds/samstjames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helena knows she shouldn't fall in love with Myka, but does anway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is why I shouldn't write when I'm feeling melancholic. I get nasty and torture characters even more than normal. This story is kinda **dark** and not at all fluffy, so **consider yourselves warned!** Thanks to karaokegal for quick beta.

**Author:** Sam St. James  
 **Disclaimer:** Characters are not mine  


Getting into Myka's bed is so ridiculously easy it almost makes Helena feel guilty. She had always been good at con and Myka, who is so eager to trust her, make her feel at home, is an easy mark. All it takes is a somewhat downcast look, a little sad smile, a tiny hint towards nightmares, her arms slung around her chest as if she wanted to protect herself from cold and Myka's kind green eyes get all compassionate. She nods, a little hesitant maybe, but there is a shy and utterly adorable smile on her lips, when Helena asks if she can sleep with her in her bed, and Myka motions her to come in.

Then it's four in the morning, dawn fast approaching, and Helena hasn't been completely untruthful when she told Myka she had trouble sleeping. Myka's breathing is even in her sleep as she lies next to her on her side, facing her. Helena has to admit that listening to her slow and steady inhaling and exhaling has a certain hypnotic quality to it and muses lazily that she could get used to getting lulled to sleep like that. Myka's lips are slightly parted, her relaxed features exude peace and her curls form a riotous mob around her head. The view stirs emotions in Helena she can't afford.

Helena considers her options for a moment, fighting with herself whether to allow this one indulgence or not. Myka is everything she had always hoped the future would be, and watching her sleep so peacefully, not for the first time Helena asks herself if it wouldn't be a mercy to kill her now before this terrible world that she lives in breaks her. It would be easy just to close her hands around her throat, or to take the weapon that she knows Myka has locked away - but there hasn't been a lock invented yet that Helena wouldn't be able to crack - in a small tresor in her bedside table. But she needs Myka, and not only because she will definitely need experienced agents to get into Warehouse 2 alive once the students she's paying to find it are successful.

She also needs Myka on a more primal level. Helena almost laughs at the next thought and the stupidity of her reservations so far. She's going to hell anyway, so why not at least make the journey pleasant?

There is no hesitation in her touch then when she reaches out towards the sleeping woman, her hand cupping Myka's cheek before she leans closer, pressing her lips softly against hers.

Myka's eyes fly open almost instantaneously and widen in surprise. She gasps softly when Helena turns her over and straddles her, hands roaming over Myka's body which is soft, warm and limber from sleep before Myka is awake enough to stop her. "Helena... I'm not... I don't... I've never..." Myka stutters and in the dim early morning light filtering in through the closed curtains Helena can see her blush furiously, the rosy flush extending all the way down her throat and then vanishing in the neckline of her pyjamas. It makes her look like an innocent maiden and for a second there is again that flutter of emotion in Helena's chest that she simply can't allow.

"I have," is all she says before determindedly leaning down again for another kiss, hungry and demanding this time, and she's more than a little surprised when Myka doesn't even try to resist or struggle, but _gives_ instead. Helena's hands sneak under Myka's clothes, caressing the soft, warm skin, moving upwards until she cups her breasts and without preamble teases her nipples into stiff peaks.

Myka shudders and gasps again, her breath becoming slightly ragged and shallow, while her face is still clearly expressing disbelief, as if refusing to comprehend what's going on. Helena remembers Pete's carelessly shared remark that Myka doesn't think of herself as beautiful or desirable, and suddenly Helena's chest swells with the emotions she has forbidden herself to have: love and tenderness.

She shivers when Myka's hand slips from her shoulder, gently caressing her arm on its way. It's a loving and reassuring gesture and... Helena snaps.

She's rough to Myka that first time - and at some point will probably feel terribly ashamed about it - borderline brutal even, taking without giving, because she hopes that if she just hurts Myka enough she can quench the forbidden feelings in her heart. The only problem with this idea is that Myka apparently _understands_ without explanation.

"You want to talk about it?" Myka asks softly, - _Will you always manhandle me like this when you're feeling out of touch with your own emotions?_ \- later, when she holds Helena in a gentle embrace, caressing her hair and Helena can still smell herself on her face, because Myka might be inexperienced, but she's a kind and generous lover, giving without asking for anything in return; they fit together too well.

The feeling flutters violently this time and for a moment Helena considers doing it again, just to prove her point (although she's not sure about which point she actually wants to make), to roughly fuck Myka until she is sore and raw and will never allow her to touch her again, which would make it so much easier for both of them. "No." She says instead, because she's selfish and she enjoyed being touched by Myka, giving the other woman a quick kiss and realising it was way too late to fight against falling in love.

Who liked it easy anyway?


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There’s anger and darkness and… then there’s Myka and Helena is almost sure she is doing things wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So… the idea of dark!Helena with her twisted emotions is just not going away anymore o.O Although this is somehwat a sequel to [Forbidden Emotions](http://samstjames.livejournal.com/39677.html), it can also be read as a standalone. This story is kinda **dark** and not at all fluffy, so **consider yourselves warned!**

  
**Disclaimer:** Characters are not mine

“Don’t talk!” The words, demanding and angry, come out in a mixture somewhere between a hiss and a snarl, and considerably harsher than intended. Helena feels unhinged and agitated. It’s unsettling how easily Myka seems to be able to get into her head and under her skin when she feels like this and Helena simply can’t allow that. She just can’t allow Myka to not only wheedle herself into her heart but also her head; it’s bad enough that a simple smile from Myka can make her chest tighten with love and her heart flutter with excitement. There are things, plans and thoughts, that she needs to keep hidden no matter the cost and Myka, Myka with her kind eyes and gentle, understanding smiles, is too easy to confide in. She has spent more than a hundred years plotting; she isn’t going to risk it for love’s moments of folly.

There’s surprise in Myka’s expression and maybe a little hurt (and Helena is distantly aware that she is going to feel terrible about this, once the flare of stark madness that’s driving her actions is exhausted), but Myka doesn’t stop Helena or even protest when Helena yanks unceremoniously at her shirt and rather carelessly divests Myka of her clothing. Myka believes in her beyond reason and seems willing to _yield_ when Helena wants or needs her to; always. And for a moment it’s there, out in the open, insanity, as white-hot boiling anger bubbles up in Helena in response to Myka’s implicit and completely undeserved trust, and she barely resists the disturbing and violent urge to beat some sense back into Myka. Instead she’s gripping her just this bit too hard, fingers pressing into Myka’s soft, warm skin probably with enough force to bruise.

Nearly Helena’s full weight presses down squarely through her forearm on Myka’s shoulder blades to keep her restrained and largely motionless, where she is trapped lying on her stomach underneath Helena, a pillow wedged underneath her hips. Myka is panting, face turned to the side and half hidden under a mass of unruly curls. Helena, even though she can feel insanity gripping her mind, is not delusional enough to think, even for a second, that Myka couldn’t break free of her hold if she wanted to, but Myka submits willingly and the realisation sends a thrill of excitement through Helena that is quite distressing in its intensity and painfully arousing.

Maybe, Helena thinks, later, when she can feel the sweat on Myka’s skin under her fingers starting to dry and cool off, she shouldn’t have dismissed Adwin Kosans offer of professional counseling so easily; not with the guilty sobs of shame that came unbidden and unexpected when Myka still shuddered through her climax, or the tears that keep silently spilling down her cheeks although she’s not even sure why she’s crying in the first place. Not to mention the dreams of blood and violence and all-encompassing darkness that only lessened in their frequency since she’s not sleeping alone anymore. Myka seems to be able to appease the monster, the madness inside at least a little. But still, there is anger - so much anger - and resentment lingering in her and Helena can feel it intertwining with the unexpected (and endlessly complicating) feelings Myka instilled in her heart until there is only a twisted knot of demanding, angry, unreasonable desire left. Helena can’t deny that she is worried, worried about what she might do to Myka and what Myka would let her do without reservation.

  


“It’s okay, you know.” Myka whispers softly, when Helena’s tears finally stop, fingers caressing random, but soothing patterns on Helena’s back through her clothing and presses a kiss against Helena’s temple. “If I were you, I’d be confused as well.”

Helena wants to ask Myka why she’s allowing her to do this, why she’s so forgiving, so infuriatingly understanding, but doesn’t, because she dreads the answer, dreads that she isn’t the only one that fell in love. So instead she clings to Myka, pressing her face against the column of Myka’s throat, lips tasting salt as they brush over Myka’s skin with every word. “Myka, make love to me.”


End file.
